“Wait,” I protested, my mind still reeling. “What exactly are we doing?”
Crow flashed a quick, pragmatic smile. “Moving evidence. These boxes don’t belong here.”
Celine was already peeling off her jacket, her voice brisk: “Lucky you showed up. We’ve got too many to haul on our own, and the fewer trips, the safer.”
Robert, pulling on gloves, glanced skeptically at the boxes. “Didn’t you just bring all these in?”
“Temporary storage,” Crow replied. “Now they need to disappear for good.” He checked his ring for the time. “We move now, or we don’t move at all.”
Jessie tugged her sweatshirt on, anxiety pinching her face. “Dump them where? And… I still don’t understand what’s really in them?”
“The ocean,” Crow answered. “Each one’s a piece of the network post that crashed the Course today. Weighted, sealed. The tide’ll do the rest.”
The thought made my stomach flutter. I kept my voice low. “And nobody’s going to see us?”
Miranda hovered at my elbow, her flashlight trembling in her hand. “We better hope not,” she said, sounding as off-balance as I felt.
Damian, the lanky man with sun-bleached hair, spoke up in a low rasp. “This is the best hour. Tide’s up. Fog’s rolling in. Good for us. Just keep your heads down.”
I pulled on the black pants, then shrugged into the sweatshirt, tucking my hair beneath the hood. The unfamiliar clothes felt like a costume, and my skin prickled with nerves.
Hayden picked up a box, flexing his gloved fingers around the handles. “We go quiet. No talking once we’re outside. If you see lights, drop flat and wait for my signal. Got it?” His eyes cut to mine, expectant. I gave him a curt nod.
My friends exchanged tense glances. For a moment, the only sound was the shuffling of boots on stone and the creak of boxes being lifted. I tried to focus on the weight in my arms as we lined up by the tunnel’s mouth. But this was something none of my people had done before.
We were breaking our first law.
I stood back, letting Hayden take the lead, and fell in behind him as we slipped into the tunnel’s shadow. Whatever rules this violated, they weren’t small. Anna had rattled off Fairwell’s code of conduct when we first arrived, and this definitely counted as vandalism, probably even theft. We were dismantling the infrastructure they used to keep the wholeisland stitched together. That had to mean real consequences if we were caught.
A shiver ran down my spine, and the box in my arms felt impossibly heavy. What did that make us now—criminals? The kind they marched through the fortress, faces blank with defeat? I remembered the look in that man’s eyes as the officers led him away, and my stomach twisted. Getting caught wasn’t an option. Not for my sake but for my parents, my sister. If Anna got wind of this, there was no telling how far she’d go.
I kept my eyes fixed on Hayden’s broad back as we moved. He didn’t slow, deftly navigating the narrowest portions of the tunnel. Didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder. And for a second I envied his focus—like none of the rules or the risk even touched him. Or maybe it was just that Hayden had already burned through his share of fear, and there was nothing left but forward momentum. Part of me wondered what he’d do if we actually were caught. Would he step in, shield us, or was I just projecting something onto him that wasn’t really there?
It was strange: part of me felt like I understood him, but just as often, he seemed unknowable. Somehow familiar and a complete stranger, all at once.
And yet, he’d saved me. Saved all of us, from a fate I didn’t even want to imagine. At least, for right now. I didn’t know how long it’d take Anna’s team to patch what was broken. But I hadn’t even had time to feel grateful for what he and his group had given us, not with everything coming at me so fast, all the new information demanding space in my head. I needed to talk to him.
The tunnel’s exit appeared ahead, and we spilled out into the salt-laced night, the hush of the sea swallowing the sound of our footsteps. For a moment, I felt like some skittish animal, half-wild, blinking against the open world. The water was closer than I expected, black and restless under the fracturedmoonlight. Every instinct screamed at me to drop the box and run.
But I couldn’t. Not now. Not with Hayden ahead, walking straight into the unknown.
We picked our way across the rocks, careful with every step, the ocean seething beneath us. The water slapped and foamed at our ankles, but we pressed on, dragging ourselves farther out, as deep as the ledge would take us. When there was no more rock to walk—only the endless, black rush of the sea—we dumped the boxes in, one by one, listening for the dull splash as each sank into the dark.
No one spoke on the way back. The wind had picked up, sharp and wet, biting through our borrowed clothes. My legs ached. My arms burned. All I could think about was not slipping, not leaving any trace behind.
Once we reached solid ground, Miranda broke the silence, panting a little. “It’s really late. I should go.” She sounded spent, her voice frayed at the edges. I caught her hand, squeezed it. There was too much I wanted to say: gratitude, apology, warning. But all that came out was, “Thanks. Get home safe.”
She gave a quick nod, peeled off the black clothes, handed them to Crow, and turned away. Watching her vanish into the darkness made me feel oddly exposed, as if her presence had been a shield. Unlike the rest of us, she could still pretend tonight was just a strange detour, not a new fracture in her life.
The others looked as drained as I felt, Jessie hugging her arms, Nico and Rosalie silent, Robert staring out at the restless water. The fatigue settled deep in my bones, but it was the kind of tired that kept you wired—every nerve on edge, every thought circling.
I checked my ring’s screen through the tape: 2:13 a.m. The shuttles would be asleep. Miranda would be walking backalone, and the rest of us were stranded on the mainland until morning, unless we wanted to walk for hours. For a moment, the reality of what we’d done threatened to catch up with me. I didn’t want to be alone with it—not yet.
“So what now?” I asked, my voice barely louder than the wind.
Hayden jerked his chin back toward the hill. “Let’s get away from here first. No point sticking close to the scene.” He set off up the path, his stride still purposeful despite the hour. We followed, boots scraping gravel and broken shells, every shadow seeming to loom a little too long in our peripheral vision.
When we reached higher ground, we paused where the path forked. Hayden’s crew peeled off, quiet nods and muttered goodbyes, each vanishing into the dark—nobody lingering, nobody looking back. I understood. After a night like this, you wanted a door to shut behind you.
